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The One Who Steals the Show: Holy Week Tuesday

On Tuesday of Holy Week, Mark has a lot going on. The end of chapter 11 and majority of chapter 12 show a series of rhetorical conflicts between Jesus and different groups who are not incredibly thrilled that he has come to town. 

He spars with the chief priests and scribes who question his authority to do and say the things he does and says. 

He spars with Pharisees and Herodians on the matter of taxes.

He spars with Sadducees over resurrection. 

Power, politics, and religious dogma. You can feel the tension mounting. All major social and political groups are accounted for in these scenes and all of them fail to quiet the growing problem of Jesus.

In chapter 13, he spars against the physical Temple itself, representative of religious structures which have outlived their usefulness. If the fig-tree episode hinted at the Temple’s doom, today’s discourse makes it explicit. In due time, that building will be reduced to a pile of rocks. 

Tucked in the center of it all is one single person who catches Jesus’ attention for all the right reasons. 

Who are the people we value and why? What are the measures we use when determining someone’s worth? The average Jew in Jerusalem would have given the highest place to those like Priests, Scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees. And what was it about them that stood out? Well, look at the reasons why they spar with Jesus. 

Chief Priests and Scribes measure people on the weight of the authority they carry; the power intrinsic to their position—power that is (so they would assume) reflective of who they are.

Pharisees and Herodians measure people on their commitment to party politics, their loyalty to this or that party platform, their association to this or that voting bloc. 

Sadducees measure people on their alignment to theological dogma. For them, it may have been the issue of resurrection; today just mention a word like “predestination” in polite company and see how lines divide.

We like to measure people on their religious devotion and piety. Who wears the long robes—the suits and ties? Who sits in the front pews? Who offers the longest prayers? Who writes the biggest tithe checks? We even highly value the religious structures themselves ("We do church like this, not like that). We remain unaware that those structures, like the Temple, may have outlived their usefulness.

Forget all of those things. Jesus is not impressed. Jesus does not care. These are not the measures of true integrity, godliness, or piety. While the rest of the world is clamoring for social position, political power, theological dogma, and religious structures, one poor widow steals the show with the soft clink of two worthless coins. They were literally all she had. A nameless widow who has given her entire life to a cause bigger than herself shames all the people who spar with Jesus on Tuesday. 

Her commitment to God without seeking attention for herself shames us too. 

Jesus had previously said “If anyone would come after me, let her deny herself and take up her cross and follow me. For whoever would save her life will lose it, but whoever loses her life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it” (Mark 8:34-35). Today, when Jesus is only a matter of days away from denying himself and taking up his cross, the first person in line to follow him is not someone with power, influence, or notoriety, but a poor widow who forfeits the whole world for the sake of God. Let us not follow those clamoring for power and position. Let’s follow the poor widow who denies herself; let’s follow her and take up our own cross.

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